Late Apologizes
by christinajoanne
Summary: "So you're getting married," he murmured to her, his eyes never leaving his cupped knuckles that framed his cup of tea.


"So you're getting married," he murmured to her, his eyes never leaving his cupped knuckles that framed his cup of tea.

The hot glow of moonlight filtered through the slits of the blinds and glided against the walls and shapes of their bodies.

Her eyes ran down the side of his chiseled cheek, his broad chest, his muscular thighs. Although it had been years since they dated, she always felt a slight ping of girlish-teenage sparks whenever she saw him.

But that was the past she supposed.

"I am," she agreed, her voice faltering, yet also strong and defensive. "Very soon."

They were sitting across from each other on separate couches as their faces stared down at their hands.

When did they exactly become like this? Strangers. When did they become so distant?

They had remained friends after their break up; and his relationship with Asami lasted a couple years before it fell apart.

He swallowed the huge lump in his throat as he gave a cough that forced her to look straight into him eyes. "When?"

He hadn't known she was dating, let alone, dating someone seriously.

Korra looked back down as she whispered, "Uhm, we agreed to have it in the next three months on Air Temple Island."

"On the Island?"

"Yeah," she nodded in a flat smile, "I was actually hoping maybe, you'd come? It'd be great to see you there, you know. Asami and Bolin are coming too."

It was quiet again. Murmurs of floorboard creaks and owls could be heard somewhere in in the distance.

His face was quiet, and he made no attempts to answer. He had no desire to answer that question.

"I think it's getting late, I better go," Mako said as he started pulling out the gloves from his pockets.

"Oh." She curled her knuckles into her hair. "Okay, okay, yeah, sure, lemme walk you out."

She followed his steps and matched his pace.

When he got to the door, she watched as her body seemed to disconnect with the rest of the room. This was it. Him, and the door, and the knob, and her, helpless to get some kind of closure from him.

She held back a cracking sob as she watched him turn the knob.

But to her bewilderment, he stopped.

He clenched his jaw as his nails dug into the knob.

"Mako?"

"Answer me this, Kor," he whispered, his knuckles clenching against the yellow metal, his head bowed as it starred towards the door.

She examined the length of his back; his tall figure that seemed to be filled with questions.

"Why…?"

His nails left a terrible grate of metal in her ears.

"'Why?'" she repeated, her brows knitting together. "What do you mean, 'Why'? Do you mean why Daisuke? Well, I guess cause he makes me happ-'"

Suddenly, his voice exploded, and there was a flare of complete anger set in his eyes, "No, I don't give a fuck about whatever his fucking name is," his voice roared.

Korra stepped back as he turned towards her, his eyes were enflamed, his mouth curled in a furious snarl, "Why?" he yelled, "Why do you think that this was something you had to tell me, Korra? What did you expect for me to say to this?"

He was screaming at the top of his lungs, embers of fire was escaping his mouth, "If you think I'm going to say 'I'm happy for you' or 'I hope you build a great big family with this kid,' you're fucking crazy. If you think I'm going to actually attend, you're fucking delusional. What did you expect for me to say to this?"

His eyes were popped from his eye sockets, and his chest was thumping with exacerbated breath as he swallowed the air shallowly and ruggedly back into his lungs.

When he saw her frightened face, he felt himself instantly question what he did, "Spirits, I'm…sorry. I didn't —"

He stepped towards her, his arms unsure and quivering with each slight motion.

"No," she whispered in crackle, "You're right…I wanted something from this."

Mako dropped his arms and swallowed, "What do you mea-?"

Her voice grew with each word, and each new word brought an immediate expanse of courage; and suddenly she was screaming and yelling for the past to be changed, yelling at him for never acting, berating herself for caring too much for too long, "I wanted you to tell me you regretted it! Regretted what we decided, regretted that we never gave it another try! Regretted the life we could've had together! I wanted you to tell me to call off the wedding. I wanted you to tell me that there will never be anyone that loves me the way you do! I wanted you to tell me that you still loved me, the way, I still love you. I wanted you to tell me things that could, maybe, get me to forget about you. That would stop these dreams, that would stop these yearnings and wonderings. Because, for spirits sake, I can't fucking understand why I love someone who makes me cry this much!"

In an instant, she felt his arms wrap around her and encase her in smoldering heat and embers. She had dreamed of being in these arms, more times, than she'd care to admit.

Their knees fell to the floor, and she let herself sob for all the years they let go by. "Why," she whispered to him, "Why?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, but this time, for another reason.

He couldn't stop apologizing to her. He didn't want to let her go.

She could hear the choke in his breath, the rasp in his tone, "I'm so, sorry, Korra."


End file.
